Dear Diary
by KissMyWings
Summary: Hermione recieves a diary for a going-away present to Hogwarts.With the returning of the Dark Lord,Job applications,and upcoming N.E.W.T.S, she thinks she'll never have time to write in it.Let alone find love this year.PG13 for language.There'll be more c


Disclaimer: I own it ALL!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!!~ REAL Disclaimer: Not really, it all belongs to J.K.Rowling, but the story plot is mine and so anything I make up in here belongs to me...hehe ;-P  
  
Authors notes: After spending too many weeks reviewing and just reading, I've finally got the courage to write a story of my own. I've made up a lot of Magical creatures and stuff that might be OOC, I'm not sure. Send flames and Review. I don't care really, just trying to make up stuff to pass with all my free time. I'll leave it for here for now. Enjoy the first chapter and remember to R&R! I might make another chapter, but as my last statement says, Read and REVIEW! If enough people review, I'll finish the story.  
  
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Dear Diary  
  
Chapter One July 20: Receiving This  
  
' My name is Hermione Granger. I just received this diary today as a Farwell present from my parents. They hope I spend time writing in this while I'm not getting into something dangerous and while I'm not spending free time studying. I'm up for a challenge this year then, I guess. I probably won't even have time to write. With the Dark Lord back again and considering Harry Potter is my best friend. Yes, that's right. I'm friends with the infamous Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. To be truthful, I'm not jealous one bit that he snogs all the fame while Ron and me are only known as the "friends of the Boy-Who-Lived". I'm actually glad. You see, I'm used to attention, I'm an only child? I don't mind a little attention, but too much directed to me makes me feel uneasy. Not that I can't handle it. I wish though, that some people would notice me as some one else than a friend who helps with homework or a friend who helps with dangerous tasks so Harry Potter can save the day. I don't want to be the heroine, though, either. But Gods know that I just don't want to turn out like Professor McGonagall. I plan to work as an Auror or for the Ministry of Magic. It would be good to become a heroine with my self-esteem but setting the Ministry straight would make me quite delighted. But in order to do that, I would need to take the place of Fudge; I mean he can't be the Minister forever can he? Well, considering how old Professor Dumbledore is...yeah. I hope I do become Minister though, I can set everything straight and maybe even use my cunning tongue to convince the more powerful creatures to join our side. I can help Harry with his prophecy, even! But by the time I'm Minister, the Dark Lord might even be defeated then, or otherwise millions of people will be dead already. I do hope that I don't have to become an Auror. But there might be no choice when the time comes. I have to go now, I want to be up early to go to Diagon Alley. I plan to buy all my stuff for school and maybe even q playmate for Crookshanks. I'll write again later, but I doubt I'll be seeing you out of my trunk at Hogwarts.  
Sincerely (I don't know why but this seems like a letter to me),  
  
Hermione Granger '  
  
With this, Hermione put away the little midnight blue diary inside her Hogwarts trunk. She placed her falcon quill inside her neatly organize case filled with quills (color-coded mind you.) She checked her clock and headed toward the bed, but not before she glanced at her mirror. She sighed as she looked at her hair. Her wild brown hair had, at least, lost the frizz and she could now run her fingers through it without getting caught in a knot. But it still puffed out a too much and she couldn't perform a charm on it since she was out of school. She had gotten taller as she started to get used to puberty and was a proud 5'6 for a sixteen-year-old girl. Her body had filled out in all the right places and her mother had fixed her problem with slumping her shoulders. It was uncomfortable to not slump at first but she got used to it. Again she sighed as she thought about her puffy hair and proceeded toward her bed.  
  
Rest. That's what I need to do. I think I'll buy an owl tomorrow. Crookie must be bored stiff without a playmate.  
  
Then she slowly drifted off to a dream that she would forget the next day. 


End file.
